Serious Rivalry
by Vio6136
Summary: When Harry meets Draco 10 years later, they suddenly find a tentative friendship based on the past. But, really, it only takes one suggestive comment… HarryDraco. Light, fun, cute


Title: Serious Rivalry

Summary: When Harry meets Draco 10 years later, they suddenly find a tentative friendship based on the past. But, really, it only takes one suggestive comment…

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and co. I don't make money of it. I don't even make cookies of it.

Warning: This is slash/yaoi/boyxboy. It isn't explicit, but it's there. This is somewhat AU - no angst, pure fun and fluff. There's somewhat of a mess up in POV, but it's supposed to be like that. Enjoy)

Words: 880

Serious Rivalry

They'd never been friends. They'd never been even remotely civil or acquainted - they were rivals. Enemies, for the half of their conscious lives. So why did it feel like that, almost ten years later, on someone's stupid party hell knows where - was it a Ministry get-together-give-us-money-ball? Someone's birthday party? Whose, then?

Where were they, anyway?

No one cared to remember by then - so why did it feel so much like coming back? Those hard grey eyes, so normal without the old malice, so…familiar.

'Potter. Damsel in distress somewhere nearby?'

Nothing. Just that feeling of nostalgia instead of hate and sneers and anger.

'Don't see killed puppies and scared children scattered around - why, Malfoy, you must be losing your touch!'

Smiling. Freaking smiling and teasing and feeling like _the bestest_ of friends. Now wasn't he glad that Ron didn't make it here? He didn't want to be the reason why his friend would try to off himself.

He guessed that's what you get for hating a person for seven years. That's what you get for having your own special nemesis - to the point of knowing how they landed their punch ('snakes and their sneaky ones to the gut') and how they lifted their chin just so when they lied ('YOU couldn't lie worth shit, Potter') and how they dealt with problems ('yes, because killing Dumbledore was plain SMART') and what spells they preferred ('yeah, just run right in and save the world with Expeliarmus, why don't you') and how they liked their coffee ('make that 'a disgustingly sweet tea-thing for the four-eyes') and how there were specks of color in their glares ('you are staring, Malfoy').

It just came with a deep _knowledge._ You are supposed to know, to _understand_ your rival - that's how it works. And they were taking their rivalry VERY seriously back then.

They just never really forgot.

So they spent the rest of the night in the corner, talking and bickering and smiling and ignoring everything around them and they _didn't even notice._

And thought nothing of it later.

Nothing of each other.

Until seeing that awful nest of familiar black hair at some fundraising-thingy weeks later.

'God, Potter, tell me no birds actually died in that thing…'

'Careful, Malfoy, your inbreeding starts to affect your judgment.'

Oh, so the last time wasn't a fluke. And so they spent this one together, too, smiling and insulting and just standing near and so blissfully _unaware_…

You got to love Ron for never attending these things, he thought as they decided to meet up for a drink tomorrow.

So, they met for a drink, and then they met for coffee the next morning, because, really, they got way too drunk the night before.

And then they met for a drink again, in a couple of weeks, and again after that - because, really, the Hangover Potion tasted vile, and they needed to control themselves, right, so they needed _practice_.

…Oh, who cared. The excuse was as good as any.

But it was so nice and dandy and just…right, and friendly, right until that Zabini had to come and kiss Malfoy. And then look at Potter and promptly suggest a threesome.

Running, Blaise Zabini thought he was probably never so scared for his life. He couldn't remember the last time he laughed so hard, too.

How did that come up, anyway?

And so it was awkward. They tried to play it cool, though ('I can't believe you STILL can't lie worth shit, Potter '), like nothing happened ('you are still staring, Malfoy').

Well, that was true. Nothing happened.

Maybe that was the problem.

So, as they tumbled with the stairs, with the buttons ('shit, Malfoy! Is it really necessary to have a million buttons?'), with the zippers, they thought that maybe ('Shut up')… Maybe they didn't think. Who could think with that gorgeous body pressed against theirs, anyway?

So they didn't really have an excuse now. They weren't even drunk, really.

They could always blame it on Rita Skeeter. They were always somewhat chased by the paparazzi anyway, and if you blame paparazzi - blame Skeeter. It's logical enough.

Malfoy always had been such an adrenalin junkie.

It wasn't uncomfortable or rushed. There wasn't much of a power play, really, and it wasn't all that kinky - men have to start somewhere. There was lots of banter, though.

Harry topped.

Malfoy would kill you if you told Pansy.

Consider yourself warned.

(Potter would pay you if you slipped a note to a good old Pansy.)

They wondered briefly the morning after if they should now be on the first-name basis ('you have a weird name…Draco'). They wondered if a last name can be considered as some kind of a deformed pet name ('Shut up, _Harold'_).

A week or two later Malfoy bought a muggle camera. He demanded Harry teach him how to use it ('there are some things muggles aren't so bad at'). They destroyed two or three while at it ('you said the same thing when I showed you vibrators, you nympho'). But, after all, they needed a camera ('shut up').

They are going to tell Ron about their relationship soon ('I just see it now, Potter! Can you IMAGINE the weasel's face?').

The End.

Told you - an easy read)) Sorry for possible grammar mistakes, though - English isn't my native language, so let me know if you found any. Bye!


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